


pretty sounds

by goodskeletonpuns (badskeletonpuns)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/F, Sleepovers, mabifica, pacifica's parents SUCK, the sleepover fic EVERY MABIFICA AUTHOR must write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-29 17:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5136341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskeletonpuns/pseuds/goodskeletonpuns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pacifica surprises Mabel by volunteering to come over for a sleepover. It's been a summer or two since they last spoke beyond passing greetings, but they each find something about the other girl strangely enthralling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. don't tell your mother

In the middle of summer, in a small town and a smaller Shack, there is a ringing cell phone. It's a flip phone, gummy with old sticker residue and glitter. The ringtone is a forgettable pop song, but it's Mabel's favorite anyway, because of who it reminds of her of. 

Mabel heard the music from across the Shack, abandoning Waddles on her bed to jump down the stairs and run through the hall to reach her phone where she left it in the kitchen. When she picked up the phone, her hello was breathless.

"This is Mabel Pines, right?" The voice on the other end of the line was cool, feminine, and held just a touch of distaste. Pacifica, without a doubt. 

"Paz? I thought you lost my number!" Mabel said in response. She sat down on a nearby kitchen chair facing the back of the chair, legs straddling the wooden seat. One arm hung over the back loosely, the other held her phone to her ear. 

"Well, I didn't." Pacifica's tone brooked no question of her statement. "Anyway, I'm calling because, well..."

After a few seconds of waiting, Mabel prompted another "Because?"

"Don't rush me!" Pacifica snapped. "I just, was like wondering, if maybe that offer you made a while back of like, a sleepover was still an option. It probably isn't though, which is fine, I have plenty of places to be tonight, seriously-"

"Whoa, Paz, hold the phone! Now give the phone to me, it's my turn. Of course you can sleep over! You want to bring some friends or should I bring Candy and Grenda? A sleepover is awesome with lots of people, trust me!" Despite the fact that there was no way Pacifica could see her, Mabel began to gesture emphatically with her free hand as she continued to chatter about sleepovers.

"Actually," Pacifica began to say, sounding a little less solid and a little less sure than before. She paused, taking a deep breath that crackled and popped in the staticky silence. "I was thinking that maybe it would be just us." 

For a moment, Pacifica waited, far more feeling riding on this moment for her than she would ever admit. Her room was empty of both sound and any sign it was actually lived in - a model bedroom from a model home, pretty but totally inhospitable. 

"That sounds great too!" Mabel said. "When are you coming over?"

"Well, that's part of the reason why I wanted it to be just us..."

 

 

And that was how Mabel Pines found herself sneaking onto the Northwest Estate at dusk, searching for the flashlight Pacifica had promised to leave on in her window. After the debacle at the party earlier that year, Pacifica had been forbidden to leave the house except at the behest of her parents. 

"Pacifica!" she hissed, even though there was no way the other girl could hear her. 

A scarily close encounter with a night watchman on her way through the gates had put all Mabel’s senses on high alert. Every leaf rustling or twig snapping had her jumping left and right. Someone screamed across the yard and Mabel dove into the nearest bush. All was quiet in the wake of the scream, except her own labored breathing. The scent of rich dirt and something more acrid filled her nostrils. Another scream pierced the air, much closer to her. She stayed perfectly still, even as something fluttered over her head onto the lawn. The scream came again, directly in front of her. Mabel dared a peek at the screamer - only to see a peacock, strutting across the grass. 

She sighed in relief and continued across the yard, the peacock trailing behind her, clucking softly. The Northwest Mansion rose up in front of Mabel, a grand monolith of wood and stone. Most of the grand windows were darkened, but a few still stood in stark brightness. Only one, however, had but a single pinprick of light in the left corner of the glass. Pacifica’s bedroom was on the lowest level, but the height of the house meant that it was still at least six or seven feet off the ground. There was a hedge that reached about to the window, but honestly, Mabel didn’t really think it would be a good idea to climb it. She stopped, about ten feet from the window, hidden by a final row of neatly manicured hedges. 

“Pacifica!’ she called in a stage whisper, hoping the window was open. Nothing. “Pacifica!” she said again. Still nothing. Mabel looked down at the peacock, nestled on the ground by her feet. “What now?”

The bird burbled in response.

“Yeah, I hear you.” She huffed and turned to try to get Pacifica’s attention. “Paz!” After no reply came, yet again, she sat down on the grass. “How does she think I’m supposed to get in there? Magic?” she complained to the peacock. It ruffled its feathers, and got up to strut away. “What! Don’t leave!”

It paced around her, squawking and fluffing up its long indigo and emerald tail feathers.

“No! Bird! Shh!” she whispered, as loud as she dared.

The peacock paused, cocking its head to one side to look at her shrewdly. Then it continued on, flapping its wings, squawking, even screaming like she’d first heard it. 

“Please be qui-” Mabel froze mid-sentence as when the sound of a window opening snuck through the peacock’s racket.

“Shut up, you dumb bird!” Pacifica’s voice was hushed, but it was definitely hers. “I would like to hear Mabel arriving, not you trying to get laid!”

Mabel couldn’t control her own voice. “Pacifica!” she called, and stepped out of the bushes.Pacifica immediately shushed her, frantically motioning for her to step back into the hedge. She then placed a finger across her lips, and disappeared back into her room. A bundle of blanket and pillow tumbled out onto the grass, followed by an undoubtedly designer duffel bag. Only then did Pacifica reappear in the window, her pale gold hair glimmering in the weak light. She swung her legs up onto the edge of the window sill, short skirt baring a creamy expanse of skin. 

“What light through yonder window breaks is the light of a total hottie,” breathed Mabel. Pacifica looked up, catching Mabel’s eyes even in the hedge shadow. 

“Shut up,” Pacifica muttered. She eyed the greenery beneath her window suspiciously. “I’m not jumping into that.” 

When Mabel glanced over the yard and saw nothing but the same peacock - now quietly perched in a tree - she tumbled into did her best somersault across the grass. Her best wasn’t that great, and she had to roll more than once to make it all the way into the bushes beneath Pacifica’s window. She sat up, spitting out leaves and pulling grass from her hair. She grinned sheepishly at Pacifica, who just raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at the antics.

“That was supposed to fix what exactly?” Pacifica asked. 

Mabel stood up and opened her arms wide. “Jump!”

“And you’re going to catch me? Excuse if I don’t jump at the opportunity!” she hissed.

Mabel couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Jumping is exactly what you gotta do!” She stepped closer to the window. The dirt under her shoes was soft, and Mabel’s flats left clear impressions. There was some sort of sweet fragrance in the air - possibly from the plants, maybe from Pacifica’s perfume. “C’mon, Paz, have I ever steered you wrong?”

“You convinced a legion of tiny golf people to kill me!” 

“They’re called Liliputzians, and it’s not like I intended for them to try that! Please, Pacifica. Just trust me, okay?” Mabel smiled up at Pacifica. Her cheeks were blotched pink from the chill, and her eyes scrunched up in a way that Pacifica’s mother said would give anyone early wrinkles. It wasn’t the kind of smile Pacifica ever saw at home. Pacifica leaned forward, her lips pressed into a thin line to keep from biting them. A Northwest never had chapped or scabbed lips. She looked back into her room - perfect, without a hint of dust or a single item out of place. She looked at Mabel, still smiling, covered in bark dust, and picking a leaf out of her hair. She jumped.

“Aw, man, you’re heavy!” groaned Mabel when she caught her, stumbling backwards as if she was going to fall. Pacifica yelped, clutching at Mabel’s shoulders. Mabel straightened up, grinning. “Just kidding, I’m so strong.” Multiple summers in Gravity Falls, alternately getting into supernatural trouble or helping out in the Shack, had indeed made Mabel stronger than your average teenage girl.

After checking to make sure Pacifica’s jump hadn’t caused any alarm, Mabel carried her across the grass and into the first line of trimmed hedges and trees. She slowly let Pacifica set her feet back on the ground, her heeled boots sinking into the soil. Pacifica was still standing near enough that Mabel could tell the faint fragrance in the air was her perfume.

“You smell really nice,” she murmured before she could stop herself. “Kinda flowery,” she added. 

Pacifica looked up, hands still on Mabel’s shoulders. “Thanks?” she said hesitantly. “It’s Chanel.” She glanced down a second before their eyes met, busying herself by brushing dust off of Mabel’s shoulders. “We should go,” she said, and stepped away from Mabel. Mabel watched her walk over to her bags, picking up her duffel with no complaint. She followed Pacifica over, leaning down to grab the bundle of pillow and blanket. 

They crept back out the Mansion gates, keeping silent to avoid disturbing the watchmen posted around the walls. The silence seemed to follow the two, a hulking shadow smothering any word either may have murmured. Its long arms draped over them as Mabel helped Pacifica load her stuff into the golf cart she’d ‘borrowed’, and they drove back to the Shack still under its cover.

 

Mabel parked the cart with a minimum of jolting, and barely remembered to grab Pacifica’s bundle of blankets before she jogged over to the Mystery Shack door. She took a deep breath, steeling herself to break to the silence, and turned to welcome Pacifica inside. As they crept through the Shack, Mabel whispered a speed tour at Pacifica.

“See, through here’s the living room: that’s not a gremlin on the couch, it’s Grunkle Stan, and then the stairs lead to the attic (that’s where we’re sleeping) and this hallway has the bathroom and Soos’s breakroom, and Dipper’s agreed to sleep there. Heya bro!” 

Dipper poked his head through the door, dark circles hanging like crescent moons under his eyes. He glared balefully at Mabel and Pacifica. “What.” 

Pacifica snickered. “Can I get a bag check on those eyes?” she said under her breath.

Mabel couldn’t help but to giggle as well. “Sorry to wake ya, bro, just showing Paz around.”

“Great. If you need anything, I’m not available.” He disappeared back into Soos’s break room.

“Don’t mind him,” Mabel said. “He always turns into Captain Buzzkill after a certain amount of no sleep.” She grabbed Pacifica’s hand to lead her up the stairs, but stopped when Pacifica didn’t move. Pacifica just looked at their clasped hands, her perfect neutral nail tone contrasting with Mabel’s chipped glittery polish. “Uh, Paz?” Mabel asked. “Is this not okay?” She attempted to withdraw her hand, but Pacifica suddenly tightened her grip. 

“No, no. It’s… This is… This is good,” she said. She looked up at Mabel, a small smile appearing on her face. “This is great.”

“Great, ‘cause we are gonna get cuh-ray-zy tonight!” Mabel exclaimed, pulling Pacifica up the stairs after her. They practically flew into the attic, Mabel tumbling forward onto her bed, yanking Pacifica along. “Alright, so, I have a whole list of proper sleepover activities! There’s talking about boys, watching romcoms, dancing to-” 

“You have a list? God, you’re such a nerd!” said Pacifica, laughing before she could stop herself. She stopped when she noticed Mabel looking at her. “Uh, I mean, sounds good.” She sat up on the bed, facing a little away from Mabel. The attic certainly offered plenty of distractions for the eye - detritus from retired Shack exhibits, Mabel’s cluttered stuffed animals and art supplies, piles of Dipper’s books and mystery-hunting equipment. Particularly eye-catching was the game ‘Calling all Hotties: Teen Edition’, spread out across the floor in sweeps of neon and glitter. 

“Don’t feel down, Paz.” Mabel put her hand on Pacifica’s shoulder, tugging her around to face her. “I know what you need,” she said, dead serious for only a moment before she jumped up, beaming. “You need to be poked with the Fun Stick!” She grabbed a stick from under her bed and began jabbing at Pacifica’s ribs with it. 

“Ah! No! Stop!” Pacifica yelped, swatting at the stick wildly. Mabel withdrew, placing the stick on the floor. Something about her expression made Pacifica wary, and she drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Don’t get near me with that stick again!” she warned Mabel.

“Why, Pacifica Northwest, are you ticklish?” Mabel asked gleefully.

“No way!” Pacifica retorted. 

“Wrong answer!” Mabel sang, and dove onto the bed, pinning Pacifica under her. She attacked with strategy honed from years of sibling fights - mercilessly poking at Pacifica’s ribs and armpits. “No one can withstand my tickle attack!” she declared. Pacifica could do nothing but laugh and laugh and try to keep breathing normally. 

“Mabel!” she squealed, helplessly gasping and giggling harder than she ever had. 

Mabel paused for a moment, still not letting Pacifica up. “You give up?”

Pacifica relaxed once she realized she was no longer being attacked. Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked up at Mabel innocently. She let her head tilt to one side, blonde hair falling across her face and shoulders in delicate tendrils. Her eyes were so blue, and her smile so sweet. There was no way a face so soft could hold any secrets. “Mabel, I don’t stand a chance against you,” she breathed. 

Mabel sat back a little, giving Pacifica more room to move. She reached up to brush the hair out of Pacifica’s face. “Jeez, you really think so?” she said. The girls gazed at each other in a moment of silence, Mabel’s hand still cupping Pacifica’s face.

“No,” said Pacifica, sweeter than a sugar cookie. And she promptly grabbed Mabel’s outstretched arm and tickled her without remorse. Before Mabel knew it, Pacifica had pulled her down, pushing her to the side. Pacifica’s back was to the wall, and she may not have had much experience but when all you needed to do was flail wildly at the other person and they cracked up, not much experience was needed. Mabel pushed back as best she could, but she couldn’t retaliate too much or else she risked being pushed off the bed. They were locked in combat - breathing in alternating gasps and shrieks of laughter, grabbing and poking at each other madly. The groping was an accident. Probably. 

Pacifica was the first to flag, curling in on herself and pushing Mabel away. She was panting and red-faced, and her hair was a tangled mess. It was the most beautiful thing Mabel had ever seen. 

“You okay, Paz? I can stop if you’re feeling down.” Mabel asked. 

In response, Pacifica just nodded, still breathing too heavily to answer. Mabel flipped onto her back, lying still next to her. She sneaked a glance at Pacifica - her eyes were closed and she still lay on her side, taking slow, deep breaths. Her lips were parted, still flushed a pink that bled onto her cheeks. Mabel swallowed as a vision of her leaning forward and kissing those lips flashed into her mind. What would Pacifica taste like, she wondered? Pacifica opened her eyes, and Mabel immediately looked up at the ceiling. Now was not the time for those kind of thoughts. She was throwing this sleepover to be a supportive friend to Pacifica, not to seduce her! Well, maybe a little to seduce her. But like, in a supportive way. 

Mabel cleared her throat, trying to move on before she got too deep into thinking about seducing Pacifica. “So, we got a little off track there, but like, there are still a ton of awesome sleepover activities to do! Do you wanna see how many marshmallows we can fit into our mouths? Last time Grenda got the most at eleven, but I bet one of us can beat her!” 

Pacifica opened her eyes, raising an eyebrow at Mabel’s suggestion. “Yeah, how about no.” She sat up in bed, smoothing down her skirt - which had ridden up dangerously high. “Got any other ideas?” 

“Well,” Mabel began, “we could always give each other makeovers! I’ve got fake tattoos and makeup in shades straight out of the eighties!” 

“Alright,” agreed Pacifica. “But no orange!” 

Orange was the first color Mabel brought out. She kicked the Calling All Hotties game to the side, pulling out a suitcase from under her bed. With the flip of a latch, the case sprang open to reveal swatch after swatch of makeup, each shade brighter than the last. Neon eyeshadows bled glitter dust into each other, and lipsticks were smudged into a sticky rainbow. It was messy and bright and exactly the kind of makeup case Pacifica should have been expecting. 

Mabel grabbed a set of clean brushes, a case of foundation in varying tones, and turned to face Pacifica. “Alright, sister, you better close your eyes.” Pacifica obeyed. 

She could hear Mabel walking around, and a click sounded before pop music started playing quietly. It was actually a pretty good song, and it obscured the sounds of Mabel’s movements enough so that it was a complete surprise when she touched her face. Pacifica flinched back, opening her eyes reflexively. Mabel’s face was inches from her own, big brown eyes and dappled freckles filling her vision. 

“Sorry, was that too weird?” Mabel said. “I always just sort of steady Candy and Grenda when I do their makeup, otherwise they move too much.”

Pacifica blinked. “No, I guess it’s okay.”

“Good, then close your eyes again! I got work to do!” Pacifica closed her eyes again, this time prepared for Mabel’s touch. There was something oddly serene about letting someone else do her makeup - and Mabel was so gentle. Pacifica’s mother often had Pacifica get her makeup done professionally for photos and ‘family’ outings. Those stylists always pinched and pulled too hard, roughly scratching on eyeliner and yanking her head every which way. It was different, here. In Mabel’s bedroom, Demi Lovato playing in the background, the soft scent of her own perfume mixing with something crisp and clean filling the air. Before anything else, Mabel wiped off Pacifica’s original makeup job, the wipes cool against her skin and leaving a faint lemony tang behind. 

She heard Mabel take a deep breath before she began to brush on eyeshadow, sweeps and curves under and around her eyes. Mabel softly took hold of her chin, tilting her face upward. “Can you open your mouth a little? I want to put on this lipstick before I finish your eyes.” Pacifica obeyed, parting her lips. The lipstick glided on, and Pacifica couldn’t help but lick her lips at the feeling of it. She couldn’t see Mabel, but she could feel her freeze in place. The lipstick was barely touching her lower lip, and Mabel was so close that every exhale sent shivers racing across her skin. 

Mabel’s breath hitched, and Pacifica risked cracking an eye open. Mabel still hadn’t put the lipstick down - it appeared her attention was arrested by something else. That something being Pacifica’s lips. Pacifica cleared her throat a little, and Mabel snapped away from her, hurriedly putting the lipstick away and getting out what looked like a cream based makeup. 

“Okay, you really need to keep your eyes shut for this bit,” directed Mabel, and Pacifica did so. This makeup was definitely a sort of cream, sliding on like paint across her eyelids and over her cheekbones. Mabel nudged Pacifica to tilt her head to one side, and continued painting something down along Pacifica’s jaw and onto her neck. She pushed her head back to face the front again, doing something to Pacifica’s eyebrows. 

“What are you-”

“Don’t talk!” Mabel interrupted. “Not till the makeup is dry!” Pacifica shrugged a little, but kept her face still. “I’m almost done,” Mabel assured. “Open your eyes now, I gotta put on mascara!” The mascara went on quickly, and then a powder of some sort wafted all over Pacifica’s face, making her sneeze. 

“I’m done!” squealed Mabel. “You look SO cute!” 

Pacifica blinked a few times to get the dust off of her eyelashes - it looked like it was some sort of glitter. Mabel held up a cracked, but clean, mirror in front of her, and for a moment Pacifica didn’t even recognize herself. Her eyebrows were fuschia and shimmery, and the eyeshadow Mabel had used had apparently only been a base for the creamy pink makeup that was blocked in around both of her eyes. Pink stars trailed down her right cheek and onto her neck. Her lips were a sunset orange that should have totally clashed but somehow really, really worked. 

“Mabel… I… I don’t know what to say,” she stammered, struck dumb by her own visage. She reached out to touch her reflection, fingers brushing over the uneven mirror. “Where did you learn how to do this?”

In the mirror, she could see Mabel sit on the bed next to her. “I watch a lot of Jem and the Holograms,” she admitted. “I love the eighties fashions in it! And Candy and Grenda love it when I practice on them.” 

Pacifica turned to face her. “It’s beautiful,” she said sincerely. “But I don’t think I can return the favor. If you want a perfect cat eye, I’m your girl, but this is a little beyond me. “

Mabel grinned at her. “Hey, who said I didn’t want a perfect cat eye! Do me up, girlfriend.” She closed her eyes and waited patiently for Pacifica to begin.


	2. kiss one another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how to code this???
> 
> also the unnamed 'more recent pop song' they listen to is "on my mind" by ellie goulding and the slow song is birdy's cover of "skinny love"

After Mabel’s makeup was done - and it was eerie how much she looked like Pacifica with delicate shades of purple eyeshadow and thick black liner - the girls sat on the bed, chatting about makeup techniques.

“Yeah, that thing about putting tape on the edge of your eye to create a perfect wing really doesn’t work. You just have to have a steady hand,” Pacifica explained, waving an invisible eyeliner applicator to demonstrate her point. 

“Sounds legit,” said Mabel, nodding sagely. Before Pacifica could go on, Mabel sat up onto her knees, leaning towards Pacifica. “You know what this conversation needs? Some snacks!” She jumped off the bed, starting towards her secret snack store behind the giant chess piece that was still in their room. “Also, pajamas,” she added, as she disappeared behind it, making her voice slightly muffled. “I mean, your skirt is super cute, but probably not good for sleeping in. Did you bring anything?”

Pacifica shook her head before realizing that Mabel could not see her from behind the huge chess pawn. “I didn’t bring anything,” she called out. Mabel reappeared on the other side of the piece, holding a large bag emblazoned with pumpkins and cats in witch hats. It hung heavy in her arms, filled with candy saved from various shopping trips and recent holidays.

“Well, I have some super comfy stuff and I am happy to share both candy and clothes,” Mabel announced. She walked back over, dropping the candy bag on the bed. “I’ve got Nyumalums, Gummy Koalas, a bunch of Swan chocolate, red and black licorice, a couple Mr. Adequate-Bars and one Mr. Goodbar, and probably a bunch of other stuff too.” This said as she rummaged around in clothing piles on the floor, since she still didn’t have an actual dresser here. She surfaced with two worn shirts and some loose shorts. “Well, they aren’t Dior, but they’ll do, right?”

Pacifica smirked. “I don’t know, they look straight off the Fall 2015 line - what was it, 90s Hobo Chic?” 

“You laugh now, just wait till you feel how totally comfy and awesome they are!” Mabel warned, shaking the pajama bundle in Pacifica’s face. Pacifica shook her head, but grabbed the offered clothes anyway. 

She paused. “Uh, where should I change?” 

Mabel flapped a hand dismissively. “Anywhere’s fine, if you want some privacy you can like, go behind the giant pawn.” Pacifica nodded and stepped delicately around the piles on the floor to get to the pawn. She slipped behind it, changing as quickly as she should. When she was finished, Pacifica walked back into the main room, expecting Mabel to be already dressed. She was wrong. Mabel was just pulling her pajama shirt down over her head, and Pacifica caught a glimpse of the curve of her back and the contrast of her pink bra bright against her creamy skin. The sight made her stop, the expression on her face as reverent as any priestess in a temple. Pacifica took a deep breath, smoothing her pajamas with her hands and pursing her lips. She reminded herself that even if Mabel was somehow into girls, she would definitely not be interested in Pacifica. After all, Pacifica had basically made her life terrible for an entire summer. Sure, they’d been on tolerable terms since then, but like, any romantic potential had probably been extinguished the moment she’d told Mabel that her name sounded like a fat old lady’s name. She had no idea that Mabel was having a very similar train of thought. 

Pacifica coughed slightly, trying to subtly announce her presence. Mabel spun around, clapping her hands. The noise startled Pacifica into stepping back, almost tripping over a pile of stuff. Mabel winced. “Sorry about that, Paz. Anyway, I was gonna say that we should totally have a dance party!”

“Just the two of us?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun! Lemme show you!” Mabel ran over to her CD player, swapping the current CD for a disk labelled with “PARTY GRRLS ONLY” in neon sharpie. She cranked the volume and Girls Just Wanna Have Fun burst out of the speakers at top volume. “Dance with me!” she cried, and danced her way over to Pacifica. She grabbed Pacifica’s hands, swinging the other girl back and forth. At first, Pacifica had literally no idea what to do. 

“I have no idea what to do,” she admitted. Mabel beamed, lifting one of Pacifica’s arms up to spin herself clumsily. 

“That’s what makes it so fun!” she said, raising one of her own arms to encourage Pacifica to spin in turn. When Pacifica didn’t move, Mabel let their arms fall - but she did not let go of Pacifica’s hands. “Look Paz, if you don’t want to, you can just say. I won’t be offended!”

“No, like, I want to, I just don’t understand how!” Pacifica said in frustration. “There’s no, like, routine! Also, I feel like I’m going to stab my foot on something.” Mabel nodded earnestly. She let go of their hands, kneeling to shove the piles of junk towards the corners of the room. It took only a minute or two to finish the job, while Cindi Lauper’s voice faded out, replaced by another more recent pop tune that Pacifica didn’t recognize. 

Standing back up, she dusted off her hands and smiled again. “There! Clean! Now, okay, just follow my lead.” Mabel took Pacifica’s hands again, twirling the two girls around the mostly tidy room. Their bare feet slapped the floorboards in rhythm with the music, and the room seemed to blur as they danced across its expanse. 

Pacifica could have sworn that the twins’ room had seemed uncomfortably small when she walked in, but now the dancefloor seemed to go on for miles. The walls and ceiling had melted away in the face of Mabel’s hand in hers, Mabel’s breath a whisper in her ears, the heat of Mabel’s body against hers. The song faded out, and the lack of sound seemed to have a physical presence. Suddenly Mabel was acutely aware of how close she was holding Pacifica and how at some point during the song they’d swapped from holding hands to having Mabel’s hands around Pacifica’s waist and Pacifica’s hands buried in Mabel’s hair. 

Mabel swallowed and licked her lips, just barely. Neither one of them broke eye contact. Pacifica took in a deep breath and stepped forward, the space between them decreasing to almost nothing. Her lips parted and she was leaning forward when she hesitated. She remembered that Mabel had wanted to have friends at this sleepover, and that she was probably only humoring Pacifica with her weird dancing skills. Her hands fell till she was holding on to Mabel’s shirt, and she looked down at the ground. 

“Paz,” Mabel prompted, barely above a whisper. “You okay?” Pacifica glanced up again, and Mabel just looked so devastatingly kissable that she couldn’t hold back a pained noise. “Pacifica!” Mabel said again, a little louder. “Are you okay?” 

“Fine,” she murmured, unable to take her eyes off of Mabel, mentally weighing the pros and cons of kissing her. Pro: she would be kissing Mabel, with her bright eyes and silky hair and gorgeous lips. Con: Mabel might not kiss her back. And then she’d not only lose a possible girlfriend, she’d lose a friend. “You’re so frustrating,” she breathed, staring heatedly into Mabel’s eyes. Giving Mabel no chance to respond, Pacifica spun away, practically jogging to sit down on the bed. Outside of Mabel’s arms, the room seemed to drop in temperature. 

“So… Uh… Does that mean you’re done dancing?” Mabel asked, shifting from foot to foot. “Because if you want like, something less tiring, I can turn on a slow song.”

“It’s fine,” Pacifica mumbled, refusing to face Mabel. 

Out of Pacifica’s view, Mabel silently swapped the CD in the player for a quieter mix. The slow chords began, almost unnoticeable. 

“You sure you don’t want to keep dancing?” Mabel coaxed, and Pacifica momentarily paused worrying at fistfuls of Mabel’s comforter. She’d almost kissed Mabel, almost ruined everything. Her stupid feelings were not going to ruin the first real friendship she’d ever had. On the CD, the vocalist started singing about skinny love and letting someone fall. She stared at the blanket, wrinkled and faded from years of use. It was much easier to look at the blanket than it was to look at Mabel. 

“Pacifica.” 

If Pacifica looked at Mabel there was no way that she would be able to resist joining her in the dance, and she remained resolutely focused on the blanket. Mabel touched her shoulder, and Pacifica flinched away in surprise. This time she did let her eyes flick back up to Mabel’s face, taking in the worried furrows of skin and the downward twist in her lips. She couldn’t hold eye contact, turning away almost immediately.

“Fine,” she muttered. 

For once, Mabel didn’t respond with excited squealing or jumping around - she just smiled a little bit, and offered Pacifica her hand. Pacifica took it, and with it came a sense of something else, a more complex feeling behind the simple gesture. 

Mabel drew Pacifica toward her, moving towards the middle of the floor. She led Pacifica in a simple box step, and their gradual, graceful movements lent a sort of magic to the easy dance. They had been close when they danced earlier, but the speed of that dance had made it feel like everything blurred together. Now, Mabel felt like every sense was heightened. She was holding Pacifica so close that they breathed in rhythm with each other. She also hadn’t noticed just how short Pacifica was in the speed of the last song. Her head lay on Mabel’s chest, rising and falling with each breath. Mabel was sure that Pacifica could hear her heartbeat and would somehow be able to tell that the reason it was so fast was not from exertion, it was from how close Pacifica was. The two girls slowed to almost a standstill, just swaying back and forth, wrapped in each other's arms. Neither of them noticed when the song ended. 

Mabel leaned her head on Pacifica’s, and they stood still until Pacifica lifted her head. There were scant inches of space separating her and Mabel. 

“I don’t know what you want,” she sighed, gazing into Mabel’s eyes. “That’s what I meant when I called you frustrating earlier. I just, I’ve spent my whole life learning to do what a few other people wanted me to do. Anyone other than them was unnecessary. No one’s opinion mattered. But then I met you, and somehow your stupid doe eyes and your weird fashion sense just, like, stuck in my mind. You mattered! You still matter, and I want to matter to you and I don’t know how!”

Mabel was panicking. Pacifica was waiting for her to say something but all she could think was something akin to ‘God, Pacifica is so hot right now’. It may have also been ‘I’m SUPER GAY FOR PACIFICA’ , but the most likely thought was ‘I could totally be kissing her right now’. Oh, god, she could totally be kissing Pacifica right now. If this was a video game, a notification would have popped up: ‘New mission unlocked: Kiss Pacifica Northwest’. With the additional objectives of ‘until she can’t remember her own name’ and ‘hopefully, until I can’t remember my name either’. 

“Mabel, please, say something,” Pacifica implored. Her voice was weak in a way that Mabel had never heard before. That voice was the final straw. She wrapped her arms around Pacifica, pulling the shorter girl up and against her into a deep kiss. Pacifica responded enthusiastically, tilting her head so she fit perfectly against Mabel. Mabel was smiling so widely that she could barely kiss Pacifica, and she kept having to stop and giggle happily to herself. 

This was not conducive to Pacifica’s current desires, and she whined impatiently. When this just made Mabel laugh more, Pacifica gave up on trying to kiss her lips for the moment. She mouthed along the side of Mabel’s jaw, leaving slick orange lipstick prints behind. Mabel’s laughter choked off abruptly, and Pacifica smirked against her skin. She tugged on Mabel’s hair, and Mabel immediately got the message, leaning her head back to bare her throat. Her nose brushed Mabel’s throat when she leaned down to kiss her collarbone. Mabel was out of breath, moaning just a little with every exhale. Every time Mabel made a sound, Pacifica could feel the vibrations in Mabel’s throat on her lips. It tickled in a really, really, hot way.

“Maybe we should stop,” she mumbled, and kissed Mabel on the lips. Mabel’s hands came up to caress her face, smudging her earlier makeup job beyond repair. “You know, actually - ah! Talk about what just h-happened,” she gasped when they came up for air. 

Mabel reluctantly drew her head back to look at Pacifica, but did not drop her hands from Pacifica’s face. While waiting for Pacifica to talk, Mabel stroked her face, thumbs barely ghosting over her porcelain cheeks. 

“Can we sit down?” Pacifica asked. “I feel like the only reason I’m still standing is that I’m leaning on you.” In answer, Mabel swept Pacifica off of her feet, carrying her bridal-style to the bed. 

She sat down and set Pacifica down next to her. 

Pacifica took a deep breath and tried very hard not to notice the orange marks along Mabel’s jaw and neck where she had kissed her, or the way Mabel’s lips were blotched with orange and purple from both of their lipsticks. “So, that happened…” she began, twisting her fingers together. Mabel reached forward, taking Pacifica’s hands in hers.

“Hey,” she said. “Don’t worry about it, I’m not gonna freak out or tell you to leave or whatever.” She smiled at Pacifica.

“Well, I might freak out,” Pacifica muttered, staring down at their intertwined hands. “And my parents definitely would.”

Mabel winced a little. “Yeah, your parents are kind of, uh…”

“You can say it, Mabel. My parents are awful.” She cleared her throat and looked back up at Mabel. “Okay, there’s no way to get around this, so I’m just going to say it. In addition to all that embarrassing mushy stuff that I may have blurted out earlier, I also think you’re super hot and we should kiss more. Like, whenever possible.”

“I’m totally behind that kissing thing!” Mabel agreed.

“But!” Pacifica freed one of her hands from Mabel’s to point at her. “Nothing public. I can’t risk my parents finding out about this.” She turned away from Mabel, frowning. “God, what am I doing to do about my parents?” Mabel scooted closer to Pacifica on the bed. She reached up to Pacifica’s face, gently tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. 

Pacifica looked back, and their eyes met. Mabel grinned at Pacifica, and she couldn’t help but to smile as well. “Paz, it’s okay. If you don’t want them to know, we don’t have to tell them.”

“It’s not just my parents, Mabel. If we tell anyone there’s the risk that the information could spread!” Pacifica insisted, gesturing with her free hand to emphasize her point. “Look, this has happened before,” she continued. “It was a couple years back, I think we were like fifteen? Anyway, I met this girl at a party and we really hit it off, and long story short, we decided that we wanted to keep hooking up, but-”

“What’s her name?” 

“It doesn’t matter, so-”

“It matters to me!” Mabel interrupted again.

Pacifica paused. Mabel was almost glaring down at the floor, and she was holding Pacifica’s hand almost too tightly. “Mabel, are you jealous?” she asked, unable to stop herself from smirking a little at the thought.

“No,” Mabel said, pouting. 

“You’re totally jealous,” Pacifica snickered. She poked Mabel’s cheek playfully. “It’s cute! Anyway, we decided to keep it a secret because my parents have always been this homophobic. But we agreed that we could tell our closest friends, because obviously we could trust them, right?”

“Wrong?”

“Exactly. She told her friends, who told their friends, who told their parents, who told my parents, and then we weren’t allowed to see each other ever again and we both got sent to different anti-gay camps for the rest of the summer.”

Upon hearing that, Mabel leaned forward and hugged Pacifica tightly. “That sucks,” she said, voice muffled in Pacifica’s shirt. Pacifica wrapped her arms around Mabel, returning the hug. She buried her face in Mabel’s hair, which smelled vaguely vanilla-y. It was comforting. 

“So you understand why I don’t want to tell anyone?” she asked Mabel. She could feel Mabel nodding.

They pulled away from each other, but just far enough to see the other girl’s face. The two girls sat in silence for a minute or two, each deep in thought.  
“Aren’t your parents going to be angry that you’re not at home tomorrow morning?” Mabel asked.

“They’re actually gone right now,” Pacifica explained. “That’s why I called you - they had promised to take me with them on this trip, but then they forgot and left without me. Which was a little hurtful, to say the least. As long as I have my phone on me so when they remember about me they can call, it’ll be fine.” 

Mabel nodded, and impulsively leaned forward to kiss Pacifica’s forehead. “I wouldn’t forget about you,” she whispered. Pacifica smiled, tipping her head forwards to press her forehead to Mabel’s. She closed her eyes, drinking in the quiet moment. 

“So does this sleepover ever actually involve sleep?” she murmured without opening her eyes. 

Mabel giggled. “Kinda depends on how much sugar you’ve consumed, but if you want we can go to sleep now. It is pretty late.” 

“I’d like that,” Pacifica sighed, leaning more heavily against Mabel. “Let’s do that, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys think I should continue this with Mabel and Paz trying to keep their relationship a secret with angst and drama and sadness I'd love to! Just say the word and the inspiration is there... AFTER NOVEMBER. way too busy with nano to write anything else right now!


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